


the family delfino

by aghamora



Series: Flaurel Ficlets [26]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s02e06 Two Birds One Millstone, F/M, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghamora/pseuds/aghamora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of dinner with the Delfino's.</p>
<p>Set post 2x06.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the family delfino

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: 'family gathering.'

An hour, three heaping platefuls of food, and a few glasses of wine later, Laurel’s pretty sure she’s about to burst out of her jeans.

“C’mon, have some more!” Frank’s dad – whose name is “Vincent, but you can call me Vin. None of that ‘Mr. Delfino’ bullshit. If you’re willin’ to put up with Frankie, you’re part of the family.” – urges, reaching over for the bowl of pasta in the middle of the table to pile more on her plate.

Maybe it’s the wine, or the warmth and chatter all around her, but Laurel laughs hard and deep in her chest like she hasn’t laughed in forever, shaking her head.

“No, no, I can’t! I’m stuffed; I’m so full-”

“Nonsense!” Frank’s mother declares. “There’s no such thing as ‘full’ in this household, hon!”

“All right, all right,” Frank cuts in from where he sits across from her. “Quit shovin’ food down her throat.”

His mother scoffs. “You know as well as I do that if she’s going to be hanging around here now, she’s gonna have to learn to eat like us!”

“And drink like us!” his father chimes in, holding up his glass of scotch for emphasis. “Now, Frankie over there, I’m sure he’s told you he’s a master Italian cook, right?”

“It… may have come up once or twice,” she divulges, the same time as Frank points a finger at his dad and protests, “Hey! I am.”

“ _This_  is real Italian,” his mom scoffs. “He can’t cook for shit and he knows it – so don’t let him fool you for a second!”

“It’s true,” pint-sized Grandma Delfino supplies over the rim of her wine glass, eyebrows raised.

“Aw c’mon, Grams,” Frank mock-chides. “You’re supposed to be on my side here.”

“Oh, you,” his mom rolls her eyes at him and stands, reaching for her empty plate. “Stop whining and help me with the dishes.”

Laurel takes her plate and starts to stand as well. “Here, I’ll help too.”

“Uh uh. No way,” the older woman cuts her off, as Frank takes her plate instead and disappears into the kitchen with it. “We make our boys clean up in this house.”

“And don’t I know it?” his father laughs next to her, as he pops a toothpick into his mouth. “Now that I’m the head of the family I get preferential treatment.”

Frank’s mother rolls her eyes good-naturedly at that, muttering something about “preferential treatment my ass,” as she ambles off into the kitchen. Grandma Delfino picks up her wine glass and hobbles her way into the living room shortly afterward, leaving Laurel alone with Frank’s father, who leans toward her as soon as everyone else is gone and lowers his voice.

“Look, lemme tell you something about my son,” he begins, beckoning for her to come closer. “You may already know this, but sometimes, the boy’s a bit of an ass.” Laurel can’t help but laugh, and he cracks a smile. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” she chuckles. “You’re not.”

“Well, ‘course I’m not; I’m never wrong. But that’s beside the point. My point is… he’s a bit of an ass, and he’s never brought home a nice smart girl like you before. You wanna know another secret?” Laurel nods, intrigued. “That was the first thing he said when he told me about you. He said you were really damn smart – and you look smart.”

“So if my son ever does  _anything_  to hurt you, tell his Ma over there,” he tells her, gesturing toward the kitchen. “And she’ll twist his ears for messing things up a prize like you.”

Laurel grins again. “I’ll… keep that in mind.”

“Good. Now,” he sits up. “Go get some plastic containers from the kitchen. I saw you diggin’ into that ravioli, and you’re taking the rest of it home with you.”

“No, I shouldn’t, really-”

“No one turns down our leftovers. You won’t regret it; I promise.”

Laurel smiles again, for what be the thousandth time tonight, and stands, making her way through the throng of shouting people in the living room. Two men on the couch are arguing loudly in Italian, using all kinds of wild hand motions for emphasis as it grows more and more heated. The little boy Frank had picked up earlier is running around in circles, and collides with her just as she nears the kitchen.

She laughs, ruffling his hair briefly – but just as she’s about to step inside the kitchen, the sound of Frank’s mother’s voice in the next room catches her attention.

“ _I like that girl. Laurel. She’s classier than the other girls you bring around_.”

Laurel pauses, hesitating just to the side of the doorway, where neither Frank nor his mother can see her. Well, she knows perfectly well she shouldn’t eavesdrop on them – but she can’t help herself, and so she waits for Frank to answer, leaning in to hear the two of them better.

There’s a moment of silence, and then, finally, Frank speaks up.

“ _She’s different, Ma. This is different_.”

“ _Different how_?”

Again, Frank pauses. “ _Don’t know. It just is_.”

“ _I know that look on a man_!” his mother cries, delighted. “ _My baby’s in love_!”

Laurel’s heart seizes up giddily inside her at that.  _In love_. It scares her, a lot – but in a good way, like the stomach-dropping-on-a-rollercoaster, thrilling kind of fear.

“ _Ma, cut it out_ -”

“ _Fine, fine, I’ll stop. But you made a good choice. She’s_  very _pretty. You two’ll give me the most beautiful grandbabies, I can already see it_ -”

“ _It’s not like that, yet_ -”

_Yet._ Again, her heart flutters – and she doesn’t know why, because it’s not like actual, long-term commitment has ever been anything she’s seriously considered could happen with a guy like Frank. But after tonight, and meeting his family, and finally getting to know the ‘real him’ he’d been bugging her about for weeks…        

His mother latches onto the same word. “ _Yet! Well, you know that all you have to do is ask your father for my ring, and_ -”

“ _You’re gettin’ way too far ahead of yourself_.”

“ _Am I? I’m not blind. I saw the way you were looking at her over dinner_. _I bet even your grandma noticed – and she’s half-senile._ ”

“ _Just drop it, will ya_?”          

“ _All right_ ,” his mother relents, before going silent. “ _You better treat her right, though. You’re not gonna be lucky enough to get another girl like her, mark my words.”_

 

-

 

After having a mountain of leftovers tossed into her arms, and being hugged and kissed on the cheek by approximately twenty strangers, she and Frank finally depart, stepping away from the chaos and back into the cool, quiet night.        

“Oh my God,” she mumbles as they descend the front steps. “I’ve never been so full in my  _life_.”          

“Yeah, well, that’s a Delfino family dinner for you. 10,000 calories and waking up five pounds heavier the next day,” he jokes, stopping on the sidewalk in front of the house and moving in close. “So. What’d you think of the real me, huh?”    

“I lo-” Laurel catches herself, and swallows. “I, uh… I liked him. A lot. I didn’t know he’d be a total momma’s boy.”          

Frank just shrugs, not bothering to argue with that, and Laurel grins. “I was kinda afraid your mom and dad wouldn’t like me at first, though. You could’ve given me some heads-up.”

“You thought they wouldn’t like you?” he echoes incredulously. “You’re like the  _definition_  of a girl a guy brings home to his parents. They loved you.”

“I’m glad. So…” she trails off, inching a bit closer to him. “You told them we’re… dating?”

Frank raises his eyebrows. “If we’re not dating, what’re we doin’?”

“Oh,” she breathes, a wry grin playing at her lips. “Well, I didn’t know you’d decided to make it official without consulting me.”  

“I’m consulting you now, aren’t I?”

“You’re not being very romantic about it,” Laurel teases.

“All right, fine.”

Frank moves forward all at once, urging her gently into him, so that her chest is pressed up against his and she has to tilt her chin upward to look him in the eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, just looks into her eyes with that certain kind of tenderness she’s only ever seen him use when looking at her, his lips pressed into a line as if contemplating something.

“I wanna be with you,” he says, finally. “For more than just sex. I’m serious about us, this time.”

“And you weren’t before?”

“You know what I mean. I care about you. And I mean that,” he tells her, his voice deep. Then, he moves back somewhat, eyes twinkling. “So what? That romantic enough for you?”

Laurel laughs softly, a blush creeping onto her cheeks despite the coldness of the night. “Well… you could’ve done a  _little_  better, but-”

He kisses her silent before she has the chance to finish that sentence.  


End file.
